| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from The Perfect Wagnerite: A Commentary on the Niblung's Ring by George Bernard Shaw: and splendors of the golden age, and make himself master of the
world, unless the gods, with their bigger brains, can capture his
gold. This, the dilemma of the Church today, is the situation
created by the exploit of Alberic in the depths of the Rhine.
Second Scene
From the bed of the river we rise into cloudy regions, and
finally come out into the clear in a meadow, where Wotan, the god
of gods, and his consort Fricka lie sleeping. Wotan, you will
observe, has lost one eye; and you will presently learn that he
plucked it out voluntarily as the price to be paid for his
alliance with Fricka, who in return has brought to him as her
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Arrow of Gold by Joseph Conrad: me to myself, and I perceived they came from the front door which
seemed pushed a little ajar. Was somebody trying to get in? I had
no objection, I went to the door and said: "Wait a moment, it's on
the chain." The deep voice on the other side said: "What an
extraordinary thing," and I assented mentally. It was
extraordinary. The chain was never put up, but Therese was a
thorough sort of person, and on this night she had put it up to
keep no one out except myself. It was the old Italian and his
daughters returning from the ball who were trying to get in.
Suddenly I became intensely alive to the whole situation. I
bounded back, closed the door of Blunt's room, and the next moment
The Arrow of Gold |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Chance by Joseph Conrad: and then being sent away retreated at once--the only person in the
house convinced at that time that there was "something up."
Dark and, so to speak, inscrutable spaces being met with in life
there must be such places in any statement dealing with life. In
what I am telling you of now--an episode of one of my humdrum
holidays in the green country, recalled quite naturally after all
the years by our meeting a man who has been a blue-water sailor--
this evening confabulation is a dark, inscrutable spot. And we may
conjecture what we like. I have no difficulty in imagining that the
woman--of forty, and the chief of the enterprise--must have raged at
large. And perhaps the other did not rage enough. Youth feels
Chance |
